and the glories of
patriotism. Michael told tales, slightly exaggerated, of the exploits of
Pearson's army and General Mace described the Relief of Lucknow.
Michael felt that they were in profound sympathy: they both recognized
the splendour of action. The rain stopped, and in a rich autumnal sunset
they walked together for the last time over the golden puddles and
spangled wetness of the Leas. Michael went through the ranks of the
British Army without a single mistake, and promised faithfully to make
the Bengal Lancers his aim through youth.

"Punctuality, obedience and quality before quantity," said the General,
standing up as tall and thin as Don Quixote against the sunset glow.
"Good-bye."

"Good-bye," said Michael.

They saluted each other ceremoniously, and parted. The next day Michael
was in London, and after a depressing Sunday and an exciting Monday
spent in buying a Norfolk suit and Eton collars, the new term began with
all the excitements of 'moving up,' of a new form-master, of new boys,
of seeing who would be in the Football Eleven and of looking forward to
Christmas with its presents and pantomimes.

Chapter VIII: _Siamese Stamps_

In the Upper Fourth class, under the tutorship of Mr. Macrae, Michael
began to prosecute seriously the study of Greek, whose alphabet he had
learnt the preceding term. He now abandoned the scarlet book of
Elementary Latin for Henry's Latin Primer, which began with 'Balbus was
building a wall,' and looked difficult in its mulberry-cloth binding.
This term in the Upper Fourth was very trying to Michael. Troubles
accumulated. Coincident with the appearance of Greek irregular verbs
came the appearance of Avery, a new boy who at once, new boy though he
was, assumed command of the Upper Fourth and made Michael the target for
his volatile and stinging shafts. Misfortune having once directed her
attention to Michael, pursued him for some time to come. Michael was
already sufficiently in awe of Avery's talent for hurting his feelings,
when from the Hebrides Mrs. Fane sent down Harris tweed for Michael's
Norfolk suits. He begged Miss Carthew to let him continue in the
inconspicuous dark blue serge which was the fashion at Randell's; but
for once she was unsympathetic, and Michael had to wear the tweed.
Avery, of course, was very witty at his expense and for a long time
Michael was known as 'strawberry-bags,' until the joke palled. Michael
had barely lived down the Harris twe